Cat and Mouse
by MapleScones
Summary: "Don't turn this into a game" ""Ah Inglaterra, this was all a game from the start "
1. Chapter 1

_~My first chapter for my new account~_

_~I hope you enjoy it~_

_~and~_

_~constructive criticism is always welcome~_

_~Flames will be used to cook Alfred's hamburgers~ _

_~Enjoy~_

* * *

England stormed down the elegant corridors, passed courtiers and advisors alike many of whom turned to look at the angry Nation.

He burst into the Queen's chamber and the doors were closed behind him.

There she was, if he didn't know better he could have sworn she hadn't moved from that portrait.

The portrait of that bastard Spain's King.

She barely moved her head to see who it was that had just burst into her chambers unannounced. She didn't need to look to see who it was, only Arthur, the personification of her Nation, could be so impolite and get away with it.

Arthur was breathing heavily and his heart was filled with the anger of his people, but he remembered that he was dealing with his Queen and he gave a low bow.

"Your Majesty" He said courteously.

The Queen did turn then. She looked down at him with a proud yet caring expression.

"_Just like her mother" _Arthur thought.

"Arthur, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" She asked him in gracious tones, as if he was a simple courtier and not her own Nation.

Arthur straightened up and looked the proud Queen directly in the eye.

"I was simply worrying that if you spent any more time in front of that…portrait, you would waste away" He replied in the silky, riddle-like tone of a well practised courtier.

Her gaze flickers to the portrait and her smile softens.

Arthur feels the anger rise up again.

"If I could, I would spend all day looking at his handsome face." She said softly in a lovestruck voice.

Arthur snorted with derision and she turned her gaze back to him, her expression questioning.

"Does he not please you?" She asked, as if she couldn't even fathom the idea that someone wouldn't like her beloved.

"He is Spanish" Arthur snapped, more forcefully than he would have liked, as if those three words explained everything.

The Queen's expression turned haughty and she drew herself up to her full height, looking down on him though he was at least a head taller.

"My own Mother, Queen of England herself, was Spanish. And you would do well to remember it." She said coldly.

"Yes," Arthur began, his own voice just as cold. "And look where it got her."

Her expression was scandalized.

"My Mother was beloved of the people and beloved of my Father until that Boleyn whore, may she burn in hell, came along!" The Queen snapped back, her face flushing red with anger.

"Maybe she was but this King is not beloved of anyone!" Arthur's voice began to rise, his people's anger roaring in his heart.

"_I_ love him!" She shrieked desperately, as if her love would fix everything.

"Your people do not. They will not bow to a Spanish King. _I w_ill not bow to a Spanish King!" Arthur growled, knowing full well his words could be counted as treasonous.

The Queen flinched but her angry frown remained.

"You are against me?" She asked.

"Every man, woman and child in England is against this marriage. It is foolish, it is not, as you claim, 'good for the country' but a simple deal of the fairytale of _love_ and lust that would be more like to benefit some country maid who wants to be tumbled into the haystack by any poor bastard she can pick up!" Arthur spat in terrible anger. She flinched again and a glaze of fear passed over her face before she looked outraged at his uncouth, dirty words.

"You will burn if you ever _dare _to even _think _those words, do you hear me? England will burn!" She shrieked at him.

Arthur stared at her, his expression colder than the ice that had covered the Thames at the beginning of the year.

"Burn me? Burn your own country?"

"Yes! I will burn _anyone _who does not bow to the true faith and to the King of England." She answered harshly.

Arthur stared at her. She would destroy her own country for the sake of that Spanish King? Murder innocent people because they didn't believe as she did?

She wouldn't.

"Very well your Highness, I shall leave you. But know this, England will not tolerate a foreign King." He said, turning on his heel and stalking from the room.

Leaving her to realise that his words had two meanings.


	2. Chapter 2

_~Sorry these chapters are so short~_

_~Enjoy~_

* * *

The day England dreaded couldn't come any quicker. As if time was playing a sick game with him, the twenty-fifth of July, fifteen-fifty-four, suddenly pounced on him.

Winchester Cathedral was decorated with numerous ribbons and banners. Flowers dripped and cascaded from every corner and light poured in from the high windows. It was all very beautiful and elegant and the Queen looked radiant in her white and gold dress dripping with jewels. She was positively glowing with pride and love as she paraded to the church.

Arthur was not pleased. His face was like thunder and his arms folded in obvious displeasure as he watched his Queen being carried on the Royal litter to the Cathedral.

"Tsk tsk, not happy for your Queen, _Inglaterra_?" Came that obnoxious, sultry Spanish voice that Arthur had been trying to avoid all day.

He reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the procession to look at the Spaniard.

From his naturally dishevelled brunet curls to his dark, sunkissed skin to his lithe yet strong frame which was elegantly and yet gorgeously draped with rich, comfortable clothes.

Antonio was all dark, sexy, dishevelled, passionate and beautiful.

And Arthur wanted none of it.

"Of course I am happy that my Queen is happy, _Spain_." Arthur mimicked childishly, ignoring the Spanish Nation and looking back at his Queen.

"You know, your _Reina_ _María_ is getting old, do you still think she can put a _hijo_ on the throne?" Antonio asked in that insufferable tone Arthur both hated and loved.

Arthur kept his gaze on the Queen, even when Antonio stood beside him. Arthur caught the scent of sun, spice and tomatoes coming from the Spaniard and had to swallow to keep his mouth from watering.

Even he, Nation though he was, was susceptible to desire.

Even if his head hated Spain.

"Of course she could, she isn't that old, she is still able to bear children" Arthur said, still determined not to look at Antonio.

Antonio smiled at him with a knowing grin as he turned his gaze back to look at the Royal procession as it entered the Cathedral.

"I hope so, _mi encantador_" He said softly, whispering the last words right by Arthur's ear, sending reluctant shivers down the English Nation's spine.

Arthur took a few steps away from the Spaniard before he turned to him.

"We will be wanted inside" He stated. Then he turned on his heel and marched to the Cathedral and the Royal Wedding.

And he realised as he walked, that he missed Spain's curving, feline smile.


	3. Chapter 3

_~Hey~_

_~So sorry this took so long to update and that it's not too long!~_

_~Life, it seems, caught up with me~_

_~But please enjoy this and I will try to update sooner next time!~_

* * *

Arthur watched with hate filled eyes as the treaty that would effectively bind him to Spain, was signed. On one side of the long table were the Spanish ambassadors, looking smug and very pleased with themselves. And, lounging like an over-pleased cat, was Antonio, his grin getting steadily more and more feline as the treaty was completed.

Seated upon the thrones of England was Her Majesty Queen Mary and England's new king, the Spanish King Phillip.

She was blissful. Married to the man she loved and whom she believed loved her back.

Phillip's expression could only be described as bored. Arthur wondered how long it would be before he returned to Spain.

"Done, your Majesty's. The treaty is signed and England is now in allegiance with Spain." Announced one of the Queen's many advisors, bowing to the Royals and presenting them with that flimsy piece of paper.

Queen Mary sighed happily and rose from her throne, taking the treaty. The room rose with her, even Antonio slunk to his feet.

The humans bowed low to her and Antonio, with a devilish smirk at Arthur, bent at the waist and delivered a mocking bow.

Arthur did not bow. He alone stayed tall, unable to show the proper respect to the woman who had signed him off to Spain without a second thought.

Her gaze flickered angrily but when everyone straightened up her expression was pleasant again.

"I think we should all retire to our beds, it has been a long day." She smiled sweetly at Phillip who managed to smile back.

"I bid thee goodnight" She said graciously with a pointed look at Arthur, before she left with the King in tow.

One by one the advisors and ambassadors left the room. Many of them throwing glances Arthur and Antonio's way.

Arthur did not move. He stayed, staring at the thrones, with his arms folded tightly across his chest.

He hated her for doing this. Did she think she could throw him as Spain and expect them to get along?

"So~" Antonio drawled, meandering over to the English Nation. "Now that we're 'married' do you not think the wedding night should go ahead _mi amore_" He murmured in Arthur's ear seductively.

"What of your little Italian? Romano? Do you think he will forgive you?" Arthur deadpanned, not moving an inch.

Antonio frowned momentarily.

"_Mi querido_ will understand." He said softly. He remembered the last time he had seen his darling Lovi. Dressed in his flowing white robes of the Romano Catholic faith, his hands together in prayer, his cute frown in place as he prayed for Spain's safety.

Antonio shook his head, turning his concentration to the stony faced Englishman beside him.

He drifted his lips across the curve of Arthur's ear and down to his neck, smiling when he felt Arthur shudder.

Arthur didn't move. He stayed as still as a statue, unwilling to give Antonio any reason to believe that he might want this.

Because he didn't. He didn't want it. Not one…

The Spaniard grazed his teeth over Arthur's collarbone, eliciting a tiny gasp from the English Nation.

This wasn't fair. Antonio wasn't playing fair.

The feel of Antonio's mouth on his neck, nipping and sucking, was warm on his cold skin. Deliciously warm. Warm like the hot sun over Spain. Infusing, electrifying, driving him slowly to insanity.

He could almost feel his skin turning red, bruising, marking.

He pushed Antonio away, so forcefully the Spaniard stumbled.

"Don't Antonio," Arthur warned, readjusting his collar and running his fingers quickly over his neck.

Yes, there was a slightly painful bite there. Arthur knew it would be red and he cursed the Spaniard on leaving his mark on something that didn't belong to him.

"Don't make this into a game." He added, watching Antonio straighten up and regard him with his green gaze.

At Arthur's words, his feline smile stretched across his mouth and his lithe body draped itself across one of the chairs.

"Ah Inglaterra," he drawled as Arthur turned to leave. "This was all a game from the start~"

Arthur paused at the door, looking over his shoulder at the lounging Spanish Nation. He felt something stir deep within him, a sudden desire to taste the sunkissed Spanish skin. He swallowed and turned abruptly, leaving the room before he did something he would regret.


End file.
